


Merrily We Go - A New Year's Eve Story

by coulsons-hawk (allyoop)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Holidays, Humor, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, New Year's Eve, New Years, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, horrible villainous rhymes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/coulsons-hawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite having an Avengers-issue super powerful Stark updated phone, Clint's phone still didn’t know the answer to “how do you ask out the guy you’ve been crushing on but then he died but came back to life and its really complicated because he used to be your handler and now he’s not”. </p><p>OR</p><p>The fic where a certain rhyming villain reappears, Phil is back with a plan, and Clint barely catches his first break at the very end of 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merrily We Go - A New Year's Eve Story

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!!!!!

When Clint began this night, he sure didn’t think his last words would be something along the lines of “please don’t let me die because of this idiot’s rhymery” because, lets face it, that’s not a very good epitaph to be put upon his tombstone. It’s not even a real word. But Clint Barton had a certain kind of life and that kind of life was _ridiculous_.

 

\---one ridiculous and somewhat confusing day earlier ---

 

“She’s cheating.”

“Stark, I assure you Nat does _not_ cheat.” Clint elbowed his table companion. “And if you don’t shut up about it you’ll go into 2015 missing a very important body part.”

Tony shot him a glance. “Yeah, _that_ I believe. But its statistically impossible for her to have won this many hands in a row. There’s only so many cards and only so many possible hands she could play.”

“Perhaps the lady has trained with the Midgardian masters of cards and has learned their deep secrets in order to best us all at the game?”

Natasha gave a practically audible eyeroll. “Thor isn’t completely wrong, but seriously guys, this is _Go Fish._ Go. Fish.”

A bemused Steve gestured at the various colored bottles and glasses around them. “It’s _drunken_ Go Fish. I think that changes the game a bit, or at least where Tony is concerned.”

Tony waved an accusing finger in Steve’s direction. “My so-called level of tipsy is not currently up for debate. I’m just saying it’s almost impossible for Natasha to have won every single round.”

“Nearly impossible or actually impossible?” Steve spoke again.

“Okay well, I can’t call it one hundred percent because there’s always a margin for error and nothing is statistically sure but its so close that-“

“So its possible for Natasha to keep winning each time?”

“Yes- no- I mean, there’s a _very_ slim chance-“

“Pretty sure Nat’s the queen of small chances.” Clint grinned. “Always finds the needle in a haystack, right?”

“It was _one_ time and using a magnet to find the needle is the most obvious solution and just because you didn’t think of it doesn’t mean that-“ She sighed and plopped down one more winning hand before standing and stretching. “You know, Clint actually just proved my point. Don’t blame me just because you-“ She jabbed a finger at Tony. “-Are terrible at this game. Great brain, passable good looks, but a _terrible_ card player.”

“Did she just-?” He looked bewilderedly at her as she started picking up the glasses that were strewn about. “ _Passable?_ How am I just passable?”

Clint shrugged as a way to cover his giggles, but Tony saw them anyways.

“I’ll have you know I was voted as _People’s_ sexiest man at least three times and if that means nothing in this day and age-“

“Stop talking, start cleaning.” Nat sent them a glare over the bottles in her arms. “All of you.”

Steve rose to help. “She’s got a point. Natasha was nice enough to let us have the team’s game night in her apartment.”

“Yes, Natasha has welcomed us into her abode with warmth and free ale. I for one will be glad to assist in the cleaning!”

“Jane must love you around the house.”

Thor grinned. “Yes, she does!”

Clint laughed and shook his head. “I think we could all learn a lot from you. Pretty sure you’re the only one with a happy relationship right now.”

“Hey, whoa there, speak for yourself Barton. Pepper and I have been good. Steady and calm even.”

“Was that before or after you blew up your mansion?”

“Oh I’m sorry Mr. Divorced, unhappy, and pining after a certain Agent. I didn’t know we were taking cheap shots today.“

Clint blanched. “I told you that in confidence!”

“We were all there! You were drunk and really obvious with your puppy eyes and casual stalking-“

“Just because I followed him that one time doesn’t mean-“

“Guys, please.” Steve stepped between them. “Let’s just help Natasha and stop talking about relationships for now.”

Tony turned on him, still annoyed. “Does that mean we’ll finally get a break from hearing about the Christmas Miracle that _apparently never ends?!_ ”

Steve turned an interesting mix of hot pink blush and nervous white. “I haven’t been talking about it that much.”

“Look, we’re all happy and dancing that the 90-year-old virgin is finally _not_ a virgin-“

“You know that was never true-“

“But if we hear one more time about the kiss that woke sleeping American beauty and how it literally warmed your frozen heart, I’m going to blast ‘Let It Go’ on repeat for all of 2015.”

“Noooo-!” Was heard muffled through the kitchen walls. Natasha burst back in. “Please tell me Thor didn’t hear you say-“

“Ah! ‘Frozen’! _Let it go, let it goooo-_ “

The team groaned in nearly perfect unison. If there was one thing they could agree on in the moment, it was that Thor’s slight obsession with the snowy Disney film and its painfully catchy song, was something they’d very much rather leave behind in 2014.

“I’ll finish up here.” Natasha shouted over Thor’s majestic rendition of Elsa’s song. “Thanks guys. Please leave now.”

“Come on Thor, I think Jane will be wanting to hear your, uh, lovely song a lot more that Nat right now.” Clint grinned. Jane’s strongly worded email with be worth it, knowing Thor and Darcy are sure to duet “Let It Go” for a good solid hour if he goes home singing. He had already gotten Darcy to promise to put their latest rendition on YouTube and Clint was looking forward to PR mess it would cause. At least it would be better than Thor’s ‘Naked Hammer’ debacle.

Halfway out the door with Thor, Tony stuck his head back in. “Don’t forget about the party tomorrow night.”

“I don’t think we could forget.” Steve crossed his arms. “Didn’t you program all our phones to blast reminders until we show up?”

“Well I don’t want a repeat of the Christmas party. You and your Bucky will be there this time, right?”

“Yes we will, and you shouldn’t call him ‘mine’, I don’t think he-“

“Okay! Bye!” And Tony was out the door.

Steve turned back to the rest of the group. “Until tomorrow guys. And don’t forget, it’ll be the last day to do any resolutions you still have sitting around.”

Clint perked up from his half-nap on the couch. “Um, what?”

“Oh, just something my mom always said. If you had any 2014 resolutions you still haven’t done, the 31st is the last day to finish them. End the year on a good note and start the new one fresh and all that.”

“Oh shit.” Clint muttered. Natasha looked at him with a knowing glance.

“One day left.”

He waved her off. “I know, I know.”

Steve caught on. “Are you really going to try to ask-“

“Don’t you have an early day tomorrow? Aren’t you meeting Bucky at the airport?”

“I am. But really Clint, if you need any help-“

“Nope I’m good, I got this. Not a hard thing at all; practically impossible to screw it up.” His words didn’t even sound believable to himself. He shrugged. “2014 was a shit year so it can’t possibly get much worse on the last day, right?”

“Right.” Steve grinned. “Wonderful positive thinking.”

“Was that sarcasm I detect?” Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha. “He’s been spending too much time with you.”

“Nope. Steve gets this all on his own.” She jabbed his side. “You’re the one that hasn’t been around much.”

“Yeah, well.” He couldn’t deny it. “Had stuff to deal with.”

“We know.” She gave him a friendly smile and pushed him hard towards the door. “Now please leave and sleep on your own bed. I know you still have one even if it’s buried under dirty laundry.”

“I’ll have you know that laundry is mostly clean.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

Clint jumped out the door before she could push him again. “See ya, Nat.”

“Good luck Clint.”

Steve was waiting by the sidewalk outside Natasha’s apartment building. “The bus is supposed to land around six. He’ll be at the Tower early since he’s meeting me before the party, but I’ll make sure to end it a little sooner than scheduled.”

Clint tried not to sound as miserable as he felt. “He’s meeting you?” He hadn’t heard from Coulson other than a few quick emails in over two months.

“It’s purely SHIELD stuff. 8:30 outside of Stark tower okay?”

He sighed and turned back to Steve. “Thanks. Really.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Bucky. It’s wonderful what not being a virgin anymore will do to your temperament.”

If Clint had been drinking anything, he’s pretty sure he would have choked right then. Instead he just made a horrible drowning-in-air sound.

Steve smiled brightly. “Just kidding.” He patted Clint on the back. “But really, it’s going to be a new year and the least I can do is help you make it a happy one.”

“Dammit, Steve, stop being as nice as the all the magazines say you are.”

“Somebody around here has got to be the media’s darling. And don’t you think for a minute I don’t know what you and Darcy are up to.”

“Is that your way of telling me not to do it?”

“Nope.” Steve started walking towards his parked motorcycle. “Just send me a link when you’re done.”

Clint laughed and headed towards the nearest subway station. “Until tomorrow, Steve.” He called back. He heard a faint ‘ _Good luck!’_ in the distance and sighed. Everyone thought he needed luck, but really, all he needed was to stop freaking out.

\--

 

To say that Clint slept that night knowing the next sunrise was the last one until 2015 would be less of a truth and more of an absurd fantasy. He finally crashed on his couch (after giving up on his bed which was a lot less clean clothes and a lot more empty take-out boxes than he remembered) at the wee hours of 4am and tried to catch a nap in between sleepless ideas and spiraling worries. When he woke up to a sunbeam stabbing him in the eye at 9:45, he was surrounded by crumpled post-it notes, an abandoned self-help book, and a few dozen scribbled ideas on how to carry out his last few resolutions. After a fortifying two pots of coffee and mostly-chewable leftover pizza he decided to tackle the easiest resolution left on his list. He grabbed his trusty jacket and dug his keys out of the depths of the couch. He wasn’t getting accidentally locked out of his building today.

 

One adventurous trip to some food trucks, a phone call (okay, fine, a _voicemail_ ) to Barney, and several half-hearted jumping jacks later, Clint had to admit he was purposely avoiding the big number one resolution on his list. He had been thinking about Coulson ever since he had a face to talk to rather than an old photograph and an initialed gravestone. Granted, he’d been thinking about Coulson for a long time, but after his death that didn’t stick, Clint had been thinking about Coulson as _Phil_ and about Phil and him… together.

He wracked a hand through his messy hair and wished he had time to take another shower. His wanderings around New York had kept him busy for the whole day and now he actually had to get ready for this ridiculous party. Clint had used up precious time to stop on his way home, more on whim than on forethought, and pick up a Captain America tin candy box from Walgreens that was on a deep after-Christmas discount. It featured a terribly drawn Steve wearing a rather jaunty looking Santa hat while riding a reindeer across a winter sky. He tried to justify his purchase with ‘ _It’s hilarious’_ and _‘Phil could keep his trading cards in it’_ but it really summed up to ‘ _Maybe Phil will be so distracted while laughing he won’t notice my awful attempt to ask him out’._ Clint was not thinking positively at all.

He rushed into his apartment (one eye always at the clock on his cell) and immediately cranked his shower to the hottest setting. He dug through his attempt at closet organization to find the suit he’s pretty sure he only ever wore once and hung it in his bathroom. In an odd attempt to look presentable, he was going to let the steam flatten out what it could in his wrinkled suit. He then tried to dig through various strata of clothes, vaguely remembering that his dress shoes had been kicked off before crashing in bed after a certain person’s funeral that apparently ended up being a hoax. Clint dug out his shoes and tried not to think too hard about that. Phil was alive now. It doesn’t matter how long it took or how painful it had been; they were both here now and things were back to whatever modicum of normal they could find. It would never be easy, and it’s not like it ever had. They were both horribly busy, Phil with SHIELD and Clint with… well fixing his own broken stuff. But Steve had been right; if he had a chance to make 2015 a happier year, Clint needed to take it.

A glance at his clock made him run back, turn off the shower, and grab his somewhat-less-crumpled suit. He got dressed in a couple minutes (glad that he had at least mastered the skill of the quick-change). Clint was going to have to seriously hurry if he wanted to make it to the Tower and catch Phil before the party. With one last dash back into his apartment to grab his almost-forgotten gift for Phil, he was out the door and on his way, heart beating faster than his footsteps. He made it to the Tower with only a few minutes to spare and wondered exactly how he was going to ask. Clint would see Phil as he left his meeting, maybe invite him for a quick drink before the party… No, he wanted to do this in private. He’d give him he box first, have a laugh, and then in the quiet afterwards, tell him how he felt. He glanced at his phone, 8:28. Phil would appear in the Tower lobby at any moment and head to the party. Despite having an Avengers-issue super powerful Stark updated phone, his Siri still didn’t know the answer to “how do you ask out the guy you’ve been crushing on but then he died but came back to life and its really complicated because he used to be your handler and now he’s not”.

“Clint?”

He spun around. Phil was exiting the elevator he hadn’t been watching.

“Hi.” He nodded awkwardly. “Phil.”

“You look nice.” He gave Clint a quick glance over. “Is that a new suit?”

“Not really. I wore it to your fu-“ He grimaced. What a terrible topic to bring up, especially now.

“Ah.” Now it was Phil’s turn to look uncomfortable. “About that. Do you have a moment to talk?”

“With you? Yeah, of course.”

Phil pulled him over to a quieter corner of the lobby. Other early birds were starting to arrive and Phil wanted whatever privacy they could afford. Clint deserved that. “I’m sorry.”

Whatever Clint expected, it wasn’t that. “About?”

“Everything. My death, the way it was handled, the way I’ve been avoiding you.”

“You’ve been avoiding me? I thought you were just busy.”

“Yes and no. Too busy to sleep well? Definitely. But never too busy to call you. To tell you myself that I was alive.”

Clint remembered how he found out. He had overheard Maria and Steve talking at the end of a debriefing, something about ‘ _How do we break the news?’_ and _‘Is now even the right time? Should we even tell?’_ It took another week before there was anything official said. And then it was just a clinical memo, a godforsaken _memo_ , tacked on with all the other news for the week. _‘Agent Coulson is not deceased. All departments should be prepared for chain of command adjustment as Coulson takes over as acting Director. More information will be disseminated during the week.’_

“Yeah, the memo was a little…”

“Cold, I know.” That wry smile of Phil’s was back. “Apparently the rough draft I wrote was deemed too funny for such a serious business. But really, what other chance will I get to say ‘Coulson’s back, bitches’ to all of SHIELD?”

Clint laughed hard despite the worries still bubbling in his stomach. “That would have been amazing. Can you imagine the look on everyone’s faces?”

“They’d look a lot like yours I assume. Happy, laughing.”

Clint saw Phil’s hand go slightly up, like it wanted to touch, but then it fell suddenly. His stomach followed suit. It had to have been his imagination. “We could have used that.”

“I’m sorry.” His frown was back. “It was unfair to you.”

“You’re here now.” Clint quickly shut his mouth and tried to swallow down the squishy emotions that threatened to just kiss Phil on the mouth and bypass normal conversation.

“I am.” Phil reached out for Clint’s hand and stopped himself again. “What is that?”

“Shit, I forgot.” He held out the tin. “Some sort of ‘happy returns’ gift? It supposed to be Steve.”

“’ _Supposed’_ to be?” He looked at the box in his hand. “Oh my god is he riding a red, white, and blue reindeer?”

“Yup. Happy New Year or something, Phil.” He grinned at him.

Phil pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

His arms were warmer than Clint expected. He had to resist the urge to lean his head against Phil’s and just soak up that hug as long as he could. Clint pulled away but Phil kept a steady hand on his shoulder.

“This really does mean a lot. When I came back, I didn’t know how anyone would react, or if anyone would forgive me.”

“It was a security issue, I knew that.”

“When has that ever stopped us before? I seem to recall a certain undercover mission where you were explicitly banned from communication for a little while, and yet-“

“I made sure to check in with you every night. I know.” He leaned into Phil’s touch. “Didn’t want to worry you.”

“Clint, I-“  
“Can I ask you-“

Phil moved his hand up to touch Clint’s cheek. “Can I go first?”

It was like Clint’s whole world just washed away and only he and Phil were standing there, much too close and breathing louder than a SHIELD agent should. His surroundings were melting and everything was zooming in on them and-

His surroundings were _actually_ melting. This looked bad.

“Do you see this too?” He asked.

“Shit.” Phil swore and Clint knew they were in trouble.

The colors of the lobby dripped down like wet paint and in their stead silver crystals and spires rose in menacing patterns from the floor. A soft chuckle was heard behind him.

“Whatever you do,” Phil whispered in his ear. “Don’t mess up your rhymes.”

“Well, look at this couple, aren’t I lucky! This is better than Steve and Bucky!” A giant book popped into existence in front of them and spit out a paper staircase from between its pages. An oddly dressed man walked out grinning. “Finally a story worthy of me! I could give you the ending that never could be.”

The book man held out an inviting hand, but Phil just glared at him. “I know who you are, Mr. Book. You need to return what you just took.”

Clint looked at Phil, shocked. “Is this who Bucky had to-“ He got an elbow to his side and a significant look that told him to be quiet but aware.

“You mean this little trinket? What a strange token. Quite an odd way to wish your heart won’t get broken.” The man held up the gift Clint had given Phil, and tossed it higher and higher in the air. Clint couldn’t resist. He darted out from beside Phil and jumped at the man, hoping to catch him unawares. It didn’t work. Just as soon as he dashed at Mr. Book, the crystal lobby around them melted and reformed until it looked like the top of the Tower. Clint had run right off the edge.

“ _Please don’t let me die because of this idiot’s rhymery_ ”, he thought as he hit the cold empty air. A hand caught his arm and he hit the side of the building with a clunk. But he wasn’t falling. Not yet.

“Please! Don’t let go and have him fall. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll give you it all.”

He heard Phil’s worryingly distant voice. It wasn’t Phil who had caught him before he fell; it was a large hand made from pages of the book that were slowly starting to peel back.

“Alas! Agent Coulson, I would wish you two well. But I don’t think this year will begin with a bell. Rather a death? It seems quite fitting. If the Avengers are dead, there’ll be no more outwitting.” A few more pages peeled back and Clint could feel himself dropping lower along the side of the building.

“Phil!” He shouted. There had to be something they could do. If they were still on the Tower, surely someone would help and-

“May I propose that you take me instead? Instead of an archer, make the Agent your dead.”

Suddenly Clint was back on the roof, steady ground under his feet. The book had enlarged itself and fell open in front of Mr. Book and Phil, a portal of inky black swirling and bubbling before them. He saw the man gesture for Phil to step forward and Clint shouted.

“No, I’m not losing you again! Not before I can tell you I love you!” He ran forward and Phil turned and kicked something at him.

“Now!”

Clint picked up what Phil has sent his way and it all clicked in place. He threw the tin box with all his strength right at Mr. Book’s head. The resounding impact was the best thing he had ever heard in his life. Dazed, Mr. Book took a fatal step backward and got caught in his own black portal. Phil shoved him deep into the portal and jumped back quickly before the book snapped shut, cutting off Mr. Book’s last drawn out “ _Noooo!”_

Clint pulled Phil back into his arms and watched horrified as the book ate itself into nonexistence. They stood like that for a while, clutching more than hugging each other for support.

“Guess there wasn’t a rhyme for no?” Clint tried to lighten the mood.

“The book clearly didn’t think so.”

“Did you just-?” He laughed and hugged Phil tighter. “You’re an idiot.”

“So are you.” Phil pulled back enough to stare right into Clint’s eyes. “I don’t plan on dying again anytime soon.”

“Well, good.”

“I plan on being right here.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement and stepped a little bit closer. “Right. _Here.”_

Clint’s eyes widened in realization. “Here as in ‘in my arms’?”

Phil shrugged. “You have pretty nice arms. Can’t think of a better place to stay.”

“Stay for like… until the party or…” Clint’s voice was small, retreating under all the layers of emotion he felt and how Very Important this moment was starting to feel.

“You said something when you thought I was about to jump in that portal. Care to elaborate?”

“ _Fuck_.” He swore. Clint hadn’t meant to have it all spill out like that. “Yeah, well, it’s true. I’m stupidly in love with you. I think it’s been for a while but after your death it kind of punched me in the face. At your funeral the only thing I could think about was how I would never get the chance to tell you how I felt. I would try to say it to your photograph but it wasn’t the same. And then you came back but you weren’t near me and this isn’t something you can say over the phone and I just-“

Phil yanked him in by jacket collar and kissed him. It wasn’t one of those PG barely-there pecks either. Clint was pulled into a searing, unhesitant kiss. It was like Phil had been waiting years to finally get his lips on him, and now having Clint in his arms, he wanted to taste every bit of him before letting him go. It was just starting to dawn on him that maybe Phil _had_ been waiting years.

“Clint,” He pulled back a little to breathe, but couldn’t stop himself from stealing one more kiss. “I love you too.”

He smiled against Phil’s lips. “Really?”

“I couldn’t wait to see you again.” He snuck his hands under Clint’s jacket, wanting less fabric between him and skin. “I was alone for too long, and even after picking up a few strays-“

“Ha, me too.”

“I still felt lonely. Those people knew me for who I became. Not who I was, who I _am_.” He wrapped his arms around Clint’s waist. “We’ve known each other a long time. Been friends…”

“Enemies that one time.”

“And everything in between.”

Clint leaned forward, wanting to be the one to sneak kisses this time. Phil’s lips were that perfect mix of strong and soft and utterly pliable under his own.  
“Maybe now we can try being lovers?”

“You’re so old-fashioned, Phil.”

“Boyfriends?”

Clint sucked at his bottom lip in response, one hand in Phil’s hair and the other at the dip of Phil’s back, pushing him lightly against Clint. Now that he knew what he could have, he wanted more right then. Phil opened his mouth and caught Clint’s moan as he slotted a thigh against his groin, closing what little space was left between them. Hands already around Clint’s waist, he reached down to untuck his shirt and run his hands up Clint’s back. He was warm and solid and Phil desperately wanted there to be a lot less clothes between them right now.

“We should skip the party.” Clint blurted.

“I was just thinking that-“

A loud klaxon sound erupted between them in horrible duet. Both of their phones were blasting the alarm that Stark had programmed to let everyone know the party had started and they weren’t there. They let go of each other in the hurry to shut off the alarm.

“Stark says it won’t stop unless you show up to the party.” Clint groaned. “Why the hell do we keep him around again?”

“He has his uses.” Phil’s signature grin was dancing on his lips. “For example, free food, drinks, and plenty of closets in the halls outside the main ballroom.”

“See? _You’re_ the real genius of the team.” Clint cupped his jaw and pressed a gentle kiss to Phil. “ _Boyfriend_.”

The resulting smile was enough to warm Clint for the rest of this winter and then some. Phil held out his hand to Clint.

“Shall we go down to the party, boyfriend?”

“Hell yes, boyfriend.”

 

To say that they skipped merrily down the steps would be a lie, although there was enough joy in their faces to make a whole city skip in happiness. It seemed, despite Clint and Phil’s notoriously ridiculous lives, their year would end with finished resolutions, warm kisses, and hearts full of hope for the new year after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Certain observant readers will recognize Mr. Book from my Christmas fic. This fic does live in the same world/time, but you don't need to read both to understand the plots.
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, comments and kudos are mega appreciated :D


End file.
